


Nights

by shsl_saltine



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, Spoilers, can be read as romantic or not, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 16:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11316960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shsl_saltine/pseuds/shsl_saltine
Summary: Is it possible to count the stars in the sky when they aren't visible?





	Nights

**Author's Note:**

> hi it's been nearly a year since i've updated. i have hyped into persona and fire emblem so if i learn how to update regularly there will be lots of that. anyways yutaba is underappreciated, it's my favorite ship from p5 and i just had to make this. its my first time writing for persona tho, so enjoy.

She began to wonder if the nights were the hardest, sitting alone barely wrapped in her comforter with her eyes glued to the sky. The stars were countless and still invisible to her so close to the city; another factor in making her feel utterly isolated in her increasingly cramped room. Of course, she wasn’t alone- she wasn’t lost enough to forget that Sojiro slept soundly beneath her room, nor that Akira lay down just a brisk walk away in the cafe. She had all the abilities to reach out to her computer, her phone, or even her coat and slippers if she’d felt desperate enough. She wasn’t alone in any sense but an emotional, but it seemed to bother her a great deal. At least, enough to keep her awake and staring at the dark clouds as the strolled unevenly across the midnight sky.

 

With the arrival of the sun, dawn, a new day that brimmed with unspoken potential, she felt much more at ease. She didn’t feel the incessant barrier that night seemed to build around her. No, she rarely felt the emotional disturbance at all; she was much too busy with people she could consider her friends to feel the distance that perpetually kept them separate from herself. This lack of understanding could wait until the moon shone again to prevail, she hadn’t the time and patience for it in broad daylight. It was so trivial under the sunshine that she couldn’t help but feel silly, forgetting it’s presence entirely for the time being. They were all misfits, they obviously could understand how she felt, she didn’t need to feel alone anymore because she wasn’t. She could simply shrug it off, forget it entirely until she lay sleepless in bed.

 

Sleep didn’t come easy, it seemed, even with the daytime reminders of how simple everything was. Sleep came to those with a clear conscience and light heart; night was a reminder that Futaba Sakura possessed neither of those. Maybe she wasn’t as distant from her comrades as she could believe when she was alone, but that didn’t necessarily mean they were close enough to mend this gap that she seemed to sink into at night. And so another evening passes, sleeplessly, as she counts the stars that she’s certain are hidden behind the glow of night life. With a new day on the horizon, she feels neither refreshed nor relieved. She readies herself for what today should bring, knowing full well they’ll spend the majority of their time in the cafe instead of where they need to be. She sits in her chair, wrapped in an unnecessary coat, waiting for something to happen to prove today is different from the rest.

 

Knowing the Phantom Thieves, she’d expected something dramatic to shake her day up. But it hadn’t, and instead proved opposite. Akira cancelled their meetup, forgetting he’d needed to go into work for the afternoon. Ann had plans, too. Something Futaba vaguely recalled having to do with modeling or Makoto, as her plans often did. Ryuji was, as always, able to keep himself busy during the days, so he didn’t seem to put up much of a complaint. Yusuke and Haru were compliant as well, leaving the redhead alone in her dissent. So she didn’t disagree, instead adhering to the other’s responses and leaving it be from there. Of course, today when the clouds blotted out the sun, she would be find that days were just as hard as nights. It must have to do with the lack of sunlight, something that haunted her as she shut away in her room. She could feel disappointment creeping up on her, preventing the idea that she could catch up on her sleep.

 

A text caught her off guard, her phone chimes bringing her attention to the present. A message from Yusuke- which seemed odd to her- proved he didn’t have plans for a rainy day either. He was inviting her to the cafe to discuss his latest project with her, and seeing as how she didn’t have plans he assumed to meet her there soon.

 

Futaba debated this for a moment, and only a moment, but Inari was better than no company. She could certainly find solace in his unending art drivel if it meant keeping her spirits up enough to find rest later that day. So she donned her boots and umbrella, walking through the accumulating puddles to find the artist waiting in a booth at Sojiro’s store.

 

“Ah, so you’ve arrived. I wasn’t certain- you didn’t specify if you were coming so I-” She heard Yusuke begin as she took her seat across from him. She instead hummed her indifference in an attempt to get his ramblings to stop.

 

“It didn’t seem like I needed to reply, you were gonna wait here regardless.” She fakes a disinterested sigh but she knows, already, that his presence is turning her mood for the better. “Anyways, I’m ready to see what it is you wanted to show me. And it’d better be worth the walk, I hate going outside in the rain.”

 

“Hmm? Oh yes,” He paused a moment, rifling through his pseudo briefcase for a sketchbook. “Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about my mother, and what she might have wanted to see in my work had she still been alive. So, I’ve begun to try and see if it’s possible to create something akin to a response to Sayuri. It’s as if I want to give a response to her dying message, even if it’s beauty lies in it’s cryptic nature.” Futaba watches as his gaze leaves his unopened sketchbook and lands on the painting across the room, hanging warmly as if it had always belonged there. She’d always felt slightly offput by it’s presence, as if it was there to intentionally mock her, but when Yusuke spoke about it, Sayuri seemed much more than an intentional jibe at her misery. When Yusuke spoke about Sayuri’s beauty, she wondered if he could understand the barrier that seemed to keep her from the others. She instead nodded stiffly, focusing intently on the painting that captivated countless patrons instead of her compain as he began rifling through empty pages.

 

“Futaba, what do you think?” He asked, breaking her from her concentration and instead showing her a page full of organized scribbles. She murmured halfheartedly, without the energy to give much of a response. “Do you think the concept, at least, is intriguing? Or would it seem to cliched?” She paused again, knowing he was looking for a real answer.

 

“I think it’s… Noble? I think it shows that you took a look at all these unresolved questions and feelings, and finally put it to use. I think it’s admirable,” She bit her lip for a moment before she continued, hoping she wasn’t projecting herself too much into a problem that seemed so similar to her own. “I think you found a beautiful way to portray a rotting feeling.”

 

And he nodded, only nodded, to her heartfelt response. No commentary, no questioning her; her answer made sense to him, and it was acceptable. As if, without having to explain, he understood the complexities her fears and could accept them. Someone understood her, bridged the gap between her reality and their own. In the heat of this hopeful relief, she spoke from her heart once more, in the same unrelated and cryptic manner as before.

 

“Have you ever tried to count stars when they aren’t there, just to fall asleep?”

 

She watches as he traces effortless curves onto a new sheet of paper, not once glancing up to her. But she knows he’s heard when his pencil stutters.

 

“Yes.” She feels like she needs to say more, but he continues. “Perhaps I can show you the place I go to observe the heavens when the nights seem dimmest. I assure you, there is enough stars there to see count your fill. Assuming, that is, if your nights are as free as your days.”

 

 


End file.
